All That Remains
by marylwhit
Summary: After missing for four years, the team find Spencer Reid. But what happened to him? And what's left? Full summary inside. No Romance.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi! _

_This story will primarily focus on Reid, JJ and Morgan. Spencer isn't going to be well in body or in mind, so be warned. He isn't going to understand himself or anything around him. If I've done this right - and semi-realistically - it's going to be upsetting. Future **warnings **(and spoilers for future chapters) - discussion of sexual abuse, graphic violence and bodily functions (if that needs to be warned about), PTSD. This first chapters an introduction, so no warnings._

* * *

Garcia's stiletto heals clacked against the office floor as she made her way down the hall. She wore the biggest, fakest smile she could muster and carried the most gigantic, sickly chocolate cake she'd ever baked in shaky hands.

As she entered the conference room, she was greeted by four equally false smiles, and Morgan's deadpan glare. She ignored the tears in JJs eyes, just as she ignored her own.

Garcia put the cake down and they all gathered around it, silent. She looked to Morgan, sitting at the end of the table and spinning a pen in his hand, staring at a spot on the wall. She didn't ask him to join, she knew he would fight her, start yelling. He might punch Hotch again or hold Rossi up against the wall, like that day at the courthouse. The anniversary was hard on all of them, but Morgan refused to put a smile on. To pretend, and to 'celebrate' like everyone else did.

It had been four years since Agent Spencer Reid had disappeared. Today, he would be declared legally dead. It wasn't fair on anyone to prolong it anymore than they already had. Their youngest wasn't coming back, and it was time to accept that and move on.

They had spent too long agonizing over his death. They had chosen to celebrate Reid's life instead. All 27 years of it. They assumed he was 27 when he died, they hoped he was. They prayed he hadn't suffered too much, and that he didn't die scared and alone. They had no evidence to suggest he'd been tortured. But they didn't have anything to say otherwise either. They had nothing. Zilch. Nada. 17 others in Virginia had gone missing within a year of Reid, yet no bodies, or remains of any sort had ever been recovered. They spent months scouring the area, reviewing case files, offering rewards and doing all they could to bring their agent home until they were forcibly removed from the case and ordered grief assessments before anyone could continue.

JJ didn't ever think about how Reid died, because it made her physically _sick_. When they found his DNA on a t-shirt in the back-seat of a burnout car. When the first year passed. When she had to meet with his mother and try and make her understand what had happened and why her only son couldn't write to her anymore.

Morgan took a year off to 'visit his family'. They all knew he spent the time tearing though case files and walking the streets looking for _something_. Anything to show him the man he'd come to see as his brother was still alive.

Their celebration marked the end of their search, when they would officially stop looking for Reid, and try to get on with their lives. So Emily cut the cake, and JJ poured the champagne.

"It's very chocolate-y, oh - and the icings coffee - and there's all the candies he liked on the top."

"It doesn't matter Garcia, if it's sweet, Reid would like it." Emily joked. She hadn't known Reid that long, only two years before his disappearance, but like everyone, she still woke at night with vivid images of his beaten and broken body laying on the floor and crying out for help.

Garcia decided to be the first to speak. Reid's disappearance had destroyed her, too. Her experience with victim support helped her deal with the uncertainties, but while she tried to dwell on the good times, even after all these years, every time she thought of him, her heart ached.

"So," She started weakly, still smiling but her eyes telling a different story. "I don't really know what to say, we all know why we're here today. So, why don't we share our favourite memories of Reid? I'll go first. Before he disappeared, he -"

Morgan snorted. Garcia fell silent.

"Disappeared." He repeated, shaking his head and clearly pissed off. "_Disappeared_?"

Garcia looked to the framed photograph of Reid sitting next to the cake. He wore a slight, nervous smile and he stood up straight (for once) in front of the US flag. It had been taken not long after he had first joined the FBI, and she just knew that it was going to look very out of place on the wall of fallen agents. His young face in amongst people more than twice his age was going to be a horrible symbol of a job that sucked the life out of everyone in it.

Garcia's computer beeped, but no one took any notice. The silence in the room was deafening. No one dared to argue with Morgan. No one knew what to say. It was only after the computer beeped again and again and _again_, that Garcia wiped her tears, huffed, and went to turn it off. But what she found made her freeze on the spot.

There were duplicate emails, ten more coming in with every 'ding'. All with the same subject:

'SPENCER REID.'

"What is it, Garcia?" JJ asked, and as she came to stand next to her friend, she gasped.

Soon everyone was gathered.

Morgan slammed his fist into the wall. It didn't make a hole this time. "This isn't fucking funny." He growled.

"Hotch?" Garcia asked, he nodded, his face stern.

She clicked on one email, and gasped when the picture loaded.

It was Reid laying in what looked like a coffin, completely naked and covered in bruises and a film of dirt. His hands were duct taped to his body, he was attached to the box by a chain around his neck. He was blindfolded and there was something wrapped around his ears. He was in a dark basement, and laying open on his chest was a newspaper.

"Zoom in." Hotch commanded. "Zoom in to the date."

The date was that of the previous day, the headlines matched and everything.

Garcia scrolled down to the text of the email, and Emily read aloud :

_It's time for me move on - no obligation to collect what's left._

_228 Flat Bush Road. _

_Z._

There was silence. JJ ran out the room, Emily followed her.

"What do we do?" Garcia stuttered, eyes fixed on the grainy image as tears fell down her face.

Morgan left the room for an entirely different reason than JJ, he had the keys in his hand, and he headed straight towards the cars. Once Hotch steadied himself he called the SWAT team - there could be anything in that building.

"Track him!" He yelled at Garcia.

As Morgan sped towards the address, the image of Reid in that coffin wouldn't leave his mind. He remembered the day Reid was taken, his own arrogance costing Reid his life. He'd told Spencer to get out of the hotel room if he wanted to read with the bright lights on and talk statistics all night. He told him JJ would listen, and he wanted to watch the game on TV without 'nerd alerts' every minute. The hotel footage showed Reid leave the room and walk down the hall. He visited the vending machine in the foyer and brought a pack of pretzels, but just as he was reaching down to retrieve them, he seemed to get distracted by something outside on the front porch. He opened the door, began down the stairs, then nothing. Reid was gone and they didn't have any leads. Morgan wished he could go back and change everything, but he couldn't. The best he could do was dedicate the rest of his life to finding the son of a bitch that killed his friend.

"This could be a hoax." Rossi told Garcia plainly as JJ and Emily filed back into the room. "We can't see his face. It could be any kid."

"Why would anyone do this." JJ said softly. "Exactly four years to the day."

Morgan slammed down the breaks and jumped out the SVU, leaving the door wide open as he took off into the trees. The house was in the middle of nowhere, isolated on a big plot of land. He took out his gun, not turning around when he heard sirens in the distance. He knew the guy could have wired the place to go up in flames when the got there. But frankly, Morgan didn't care anymore.

The house was huge, and it looked abandoned. SWAT had somehow overtaken Morgan and instantly their unit was storming the building and making sure it was safe. Hotch took hold of Morgan's arm to stop him running inside and shook him hard.

"You go inside before it's checked and you risk blowing _Reid _up, you really want that?" Hotch yelled, glaring.

By the time SWAT had cleared the place, Emily, JJ and Rossi were at the house. Rossi was barking orders at SWAT through his walkie and JJ had her hands stuck to her face.

The SWAT leader called out that all was clear and they split up, Morgan and JJ went down into the basement while Hotch and Emily checked the outside Tornado shelter.

Morgan saw the coffin at the centre of the basement. He didn't see the mutilated bodies surrounding it or the copious amount of blood he was standing in. He didn't see the torture devices hanging from the wall or the open notebook recording _every_ victim, and _every _ounce of pain he'd inflicted upon them. He just saw the coffin. And he hesitated.

"I can't." JJ whispered from behind. "If he's dead... I just _can't_."

Morgan looked to the stairs, the rest of the team gathered at the top, just waiting. Waiting for him. Slowly Morgan neared the coffin, knelt down and lifted the lid.

Inside was a body. Skinny - no - _malnourished_. Great tufts of hair missing and under a thick layer of dirt, no dust? Far too pale skin. Save for the blood. It was everywhere. His head bathing in a pool of what rushed out like a waterfall. He was in far worse condition than in the photo. But it was Spencer. There was no doubt.

Very cautiously, praying to God, asking for this one favour, willing to forgive every other time he had been left alone and helpless, Morgan pressed a finger to Spencer's neck.

Immediately the body stiffened.

"Reid." Morgan breathed. As if every ounce of heartache, worry, stress and fear just evaporated away with one word. Then to the team, "He's alive. Get - Get a medic!"

The next few minutes were chaos. A cluster of EMTs storming in and crowding around while they tore at Spencer's blindfold and binds, hooking him up to a bundle of tubes and wires. Morgan went to touch Spencer, not knowing where to put his hand amongst a myriad of bruises and cuts. Eventually he placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder and he didn't let go.

They all followed Reid and Morgan to the hospital, in their black Suburban's. The CSIs were having the bodies removed and the evidence bagged for them, but they needed to be at the hospital before they even thought about work. They had the canine unit scouring the area on a scent from some bedding found in the basement, and the media had already turned up, battling to get the story first.

They sat in the hospital waiting room. Morgan alternated between pacing the room and hounding whoever roamed the corridors for answers. JJ sat with her knees to her chest in silence.

"Family of Spencer Reid?" A doctor called towards their group. Hotch looked up and he and Morgan made their way over to the nurse. "Are you family?" The doctor asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Yes." Both Hotch and Morgan said without hesitation.

"I'm Agent Aaron Hotchner with the FBI, is he going to be okay?"

The doctor exhaled deeply and looked down at his notes, flicking back and forth between the two pages and pausing to rest his head on his thumb and fore-finger.

"Spencer Reid has suffered extensive abuse, from what I can tell, he has been deprived of sight and sound for a prolonged period of time. There are burn marks all over his body, several bones have been broken and reset badly, his muscles have completely worn away and he is dangerously thin. He's severly dehydrated and anaemic, and most problematically, he has suffered a sever head injury fairly recently. The wounds have been dressed and tended to, but I'm afraid we wont know the true extent of the damage until he comes around. He's been put into an induced coma while he recovers."

Garcia was sobbing, JJ and Emily were holding hands and Morgan was so close to punching a hole in the wall again.

"But is he going to be okay?" JJ pushed.

The doctor looked at the team. "As I said, with his head injury, we wont know until he wakes up. He could have mild amnesia, he could be permanently brain damaged. Frankly, I'm surprised he's alive."

The doctor looked to Hotch. "Agent Hotchner, I wonder if I could talk with you privately. I need your consent on how to proceed with another matter."

"What matter?" Morgan demanded, but he was ignored.

Hotch followed the doctor to the reception desk, and Morgan looked on worriedly.

When they were out of earshot, the doctor continued. "There's evidence to suggest Mr Reid has been sexually assaulted. I need your consent to proceed."

Hotch looked back at his team, then he signed the paper.

"I need to know if he's going to be alright." Garcia sobbed. "After all these years... why would someone keep him that long? What happened to him?"

"That bastard wanted us to find him dead." Morgan said flatly. "He wanted to give us hope, and then snatch it away again."

"Reid's too strong." Emily said. "Four years, he never gave up."

Morgan put an arm around Garcia's shoulders and pulled her into him. He could feel the anger growing inside him, and he held on to Garcia to stop himself from picking up the water cooler and throwing it into the wall. Ever since Reid had disappeared, he'd been finding it harder and harder to control his temper. The Bureau had made it very clear that another strike meant he was out, and this time, it would be for good. He closed his eyes, thinking of Reid laying in the hospital bed. He had to be strong like Reid.

Hotch returned to the team, stony faced and arms folded.

"What did he say?" JJ asked.

Hotch shook his head. "There's evidence to suggest sexual abuse. He needed my permission to investigate further."

Morgan opened his eyes, let go of Garcia, and immediately stormed out the door.

"Wait!" JJ called after him. She followed him outside, and into the parking lot.

"Derek, you need to calm down."

"That bastard is going to pay." Morgan growled, unlocking the door of the car.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know."

"Spence needs you here."

"You call me when he wakes up."

JJ watched the Suburban pull out of the parking space and drive off.

"Can we see him?" JJ asked weakly. When she returned to the team, they were all seated in silence.

"I don't think I can." Garcia said through tears. JJ didn't think she'd stopped crying since they had discovered the photo.

When the doctor returned, a clip board in his hand for Hotch to fill out some of Spencer's details, he asked a nurse to escort JJ and Prentiss into Spencer's room.

The room was dark. They were keeping the light low and everyone was instructed to only make noise when absolutely necessary. Spencer's body looked dangerously small amongst the thick blankets and the bandages wrapped around his head only furthered the effect.

The first thing JJ noticed was the chunk of flesh missing from Spencer's right arm. That's just where her eyes travelled to first. The spot had been healed, but a scar remained on his forearm from the elbow almost to the wrist. Her eyes travelled to the tiny bit of his chest showing, red and angry skin, cigarette burns up his neck. Spencer's other arm was yellow and green with bruises. There were marks that looked like a tally count cut into his skin, healed over, but scarred white. Then she reached his face. Black and purple eyes, dry and cracked lips, a cut running from his chin to past his hairline.

JJ stepped closer to the bed and reached out to touch Spencer for the first time in four years, her hand settling on greasy hair, matted with blood and vomit and god knows what else, that hadn't been washed in years. She gently moved the hair, and she noticed his ear lobe was missing. There was still bits of mould and rot stuck inside his ear, and she noticed his eyes were caked with it too. There wasn't an inch of untainted flesh.

JJ ran from the room and barely made it outside before she lost everything in her stomach and fell to the ground.

Morgan parked on the cliff-top, a few blocks from the hospital. He had lost count of how many times he had found himself in the same spot. He would sit in his car and watch the city lights, knowing that somewhere, in one of those houses, lived someone who knew what happened to Spencer Reid. Today Morgan wanted to keep driving, but the anger inside of him blurred his vision and made it too difficult to keep in the right lane. The last thing he wanted to do was cause an accident. To ruin someone's life. Or to die without bringing Reid justice. Morgan locked the car and walked back towards the hospital.

* * *

_Should I continue? Please review :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hi! Thanks to all those who reviewed the first chapter! They definitely encourage me to write and I love getting them, however brief._

**Warnings** for this chapter: Mentions of physical and sexual abuse.

* * *

JJ and Garcia sat at Spencer's bedside. They filled the room with brightly colored bouquets and stuffed animals, Get Well cards and boxes of chocolates, trying to bring some happiness and comfort in to an otherwise horrific situation.

Spencer still hadn't shown then any signs he was alive, remaining completely motionless while the nurses came in twice a day; pushing needles in, pulling tubes out, draining bags and redressing his wounds. His head was wrapped in bandages, but the matted hair that fell down past his shoulders had been neatly trimmed by Garcia on the second night. On the third, JJ has carefully shaved his face and cleaned the dirt out the corners of his eyes, ears and nose.

On the morning of the fifth day, Garcia sat knitting Spencer a purple scarf, while JJ read to him from his favourite book. All the years Spencer had been missing, Rossi had made sure his rent was paid, and the apartment was kept in good condition. On one of her many visits to Spencer's, JJ had sat on his bed and found herself poking through his night stand drawers, desperately looking for something to show her he'd once been there, searching for something tangible to hold on to. She had found a very worn copy of Chaucer's 'The Canterbury Tales', and as she opened the book, she found it had been annotated by a very young Spencer. He must have seen his mother's lecture notes, and wanted to make his own. She followed the arrows, read the chicken-scrawl inscriptions over and over, and traced the doodles with her fingers. She'd held on to the book ever since. She told herself that taking his things wasn't _any_ indication that she believed he wouldn't ever need them again.

It was only on the eighth day that Morgan went to see Spencer. He'd wanted to go in on day one, but when he found JJ hunched over the trash can, and she'd told him what state Spencer was in, he hovered outside the door and couldn't bring himself to go inside. The day they'd found Spencer, it had all been a blur. He remembered the blood, and the dirt, and strangely, how much younger Spencer looked. But he couldn't remember seeing the true extend of his injuries. He'd spent the morning on the phone to the CSI's and apparently, there had been 23 bodies stacked up in the basement, too. He couldn't even remember seeing them.

As Morgan walked into Spencer's room with Hotch and Prentiss and saw what had become of his friend, he made sure to control his anger. He stuck his hands into his jacket pocket and clenched them around the material closest to his skin. What Morgan did notice, was that Spencer's blindfolds and whatever had been stuck inside his ears had been removed. The man - the _boy -_ was pale as hell. Gaunt. Sick. Morgan dug his fingernails in deep to stop himself from tearing the wall apart.

He sat down next to Garcia and watched Spencer for a moment. His mouth is slightly open, and Morgan couldn't help but see that his teeth were in good condition. Without thinking, he pointed it out.

"Well I guess we should be thankful to this 'Z' for letting him brush his teeth then!" JJ said sarcastically. Immediately, she was livid. "He's had 112 seizures since Wednesday, _Derek_. This morning his urine bag was full of blood." She looked to Hotch, but her tone didn't change. "How the hell are we going to catch this guy?"

"Strauss has another team working the case." Hotch replied. "Skeletal remains of 23 people have been recovered from inside the farmhouse. They think they'll most likely find the 17 missings among them."

"But why keep Reid in a box?" Prentiss pressed. She'd spent the first two days crying with JJ and Garcia, but she was all business now. Reid needed her head in this. "All the other victims were thrown into piles".

"They clearly didn't matter as much to the Unsub."

"So what's he doing? Tryin' to send a message to law enforcement? A big 'Look What I Can Do?"

"It seems excessive. To keep someone for that long? I don't know, Morgan. Killing him -"

"STOP!"

They all fell silent and turned to look at Garcia. Her purple scarf lay crumpled on the ground and she had stood up from the chair, hands on hips.

"This is not the BAU, this is a _hospital_!" She cried, "You don't get to talk like that in here! Reid is recovering, and you don't know if he can hear you, so you don't get to talk like that in front of him!"

* * *

After Garcia's little outburst, Morgan and Prentiss went back to work. Spencer was being well looked after, and they refused to wait around and give some other team the satisfaction of nailing this 'Z' to the wall.

They stood in the Crime Scene Unit wearing heavy toxic masks, examining the box Spencer had been held in. It was home-made, but sturdy. Painted black, and just long enough and deep enough to fit Spencer in. The bottom was lined with blue tarpaulin, covered in blood and excrement and rotting at the centre. Morgan imagined Spencer's skin stuck to the bottom of his prison, and wondered how the kid had avoided serious infection. He thought back to Reid's teeth.

_This 'Z' must have taken him out occasionally. But why? What was he doing with him?_

Morgan pretended he didn't already know the answer.

The box was almost empty, save for a broken watch and a leather jacket that to Morgan, looked oddly familiar. Prentiss lifted the items and sealed them into an evidence bag.

"His head was up this end." Morgan said, and stuck his finger through a small hole. "This must have been where the feeding tube went."

"EMT's just ripped them out, we can't be sure." Prentiss added. She pulled at the bottom of the box, and it slid towards her.

"Slide out the bottom, replace the mat." Morgan said.

Prentiss sighed and shook her head.

"Just like cleaning a hamster cage."

* * *

It takes two weeks of constant bedside vigil; of Chaucer, home-made stuffed rabbits and one-sided conversations, before Spencer finally opens his eyes.

Garcia was away a coffee run, and JJ was dozing in the chair when a noise made her jump. Having a four year old, she was conditioned to take notice of phantom sounds in the night.

Sitting up, JJ's eyes immediately went to Spencer. He was awake, and staring up at the ceiling with tears in his eyes. At first, she thought she was dreaming - the doctor didn't expect him to wake up for another week - but even so, she frantically pressed the 'call' button, and leant over Spencer.

"Spencer. Spence? It's JJ..."

He reacted immediately, desperately trying to push away the blankets and pull tubes from his face with his withered hands. Disoriented and weak, JJ was easily able to restrain him until the nurse rushed in.

JJ watched as the nurse took over, standing over Spencer and holding him tightly around the shoulders.

"Mr. Reid, you're in a hospital!"

He repeated the same words over and over, and didn't seem to notice how scared and confused Spencer was. Spencer has just come out of a coma, they had no idea how long it had been since he had seen or heard anything, the last thing he needed was a man twice his size shaking him about and screaming in his face. When the nurse finally let go, Spencer stared at him for a long time, completely frozen. JJ wondered if he thought he was coming face-to-face with his captor for the first time, and she pushed the nurse out of the way, hoping to replace Spencer's terror with a friendly face.

JJ offered him a smile, but she wasn't sure what to say to him. "_Hey Spencer, you were locked in a box for four years, physically and sexually abused and now you have a brain injury - but it's all gonna be okay!"_ He wasn't anywhere near 'okay', and he probably wouldn't be for a very long time. And she refused to lie to him.

"Spence.." She started, but she didn't have to continue. She watched his eyes close as he fell back to sleep.

* * *

_Please leave a review :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi! Sorry for the wait, I've been too busy with final exams. Only one more semester and I'll be a graduate! (with a BA, that is -_- ). _

_Oh, and for those reading 'The Little Prince', there will be an update sometime this week!_

**Warnings**: Blood. Mentions of torture.

* * *

While JJ was concerned Spencer continued to wake up for only a few seconds, and fall into unconsciousness again and again, the doctor assured her it was completely normal. He was, however, curious to why Spencer had woken up so early; even at all. He gushed that Spencer was "unusual, but remarkable". JJ wasn't surprised at the doctors assessment, after all, Spencer had never been "the usual" in any regard. The doctor pushed that despite his progress, Spencer was still badly injured and JJ needed to prepare herself for what might happen over the next few days: Confusion. Amnesia. Anger. Terror. Seizures. Mental Retardation. The words flew past JJ, and she pushed away the tears and the worry. Spencer wasn't going to be okay _immediately_, but she needed to believe he would make a full recovery _eventually_. One-hundred percent. After four years she hadn't given up on him, and she wasn't going to now. She continued to sit in silent darkness, watching for a finger wiggling or an eye flickering, waiting for Spencer to wake up for good, and to prove to the doctors just how remarkable he was.

Morgan sat across from JJ, with Garcia laying against his shoulder. He lazily traced his finger up and down her back, and kept his eyes on Spencer's face. He wondered what was going on in the kid's head. _Did he know where he was? Who he was? What he was? Would he ever know again? _

The room was completely silent, save for the ticking of his wristwatch, but Morgan's mind was as loud as a speedway. He didn't want to pray. The last time he'd tried to, Garcia had been shot and right then he'd decided nothing good could come of it. He didn't want to hope. Unlike JJ, he was prepared for Spencer's death. He knew heroes could die, and that good people could suffer. He learned that at ten when he watched his father get shot, and he had been constantly reminded of the fact throughout his career. Morgan didn't _want_ Spencer to die, but he knew in his heart Spencer would rather leave with everyone remembering him how he was, rather than as a drooling, spoon-fed, bedridden invalid.

As Morgan stared at Spencer, he silently promised him that whatever happened, he would catch this 'Z'. He would personally wrap his fingers around the son of a bitches neck and squeeze, watch his eyes bulge as every ounce of life left his body...

"I'll get coffee." Morgan offered. He needed a break, and he needed to check in with the others.

* * *

Morgan leant against the stone wall outside the hospital and called Prentiss. Hotch would be too busy and Rossi would try to sugar-coat any new information that they may have, but Prentiss would give it to him straight.

"Emily, tell me you've found something."

Morgan heard Emily give an exasperated sigh. "Nothing about Reid." She said, he was their main priority after all. He was the only victim still alive.

_Victim._

It wasn't right.

"Blood and remains from the victims, but nothing of the UNSUB."

"So we have no way of tracking him, what about the neighbors?"

"Four years, possibly more, and they never saw a thing."

"We have nothing?"

"We have a barn." Emily said. "Metal cages, fencing, wires. CSI's say it looks like he kept the victims in there before he brought them into the farmhouse. We need to check it out, and I could sure use your help."

"I'll be there in 20." Morgan said instantly. JJ and Garcia would just have to go without the coffee.

* * *

When Morgan arrived at the farmhouse, Prentiss was on the phone to Rossi. Morgan got a one-sided conversation, but understood that 'Z's' journals had documented every method of torture he inflicted, right back to 23 February 2004. There was no indication it was his first journal, or his last. For all they knew this was merely one of many, and left to show the FBI just what he could do. There was a high probability, given the fact he had baited the FBI and disappeared into thin air, that he would continue his killings in another state. The fact was, tracking him during another killing spree seemed to be the only way they would ever get to him.

"He gave everyone a number." Emily said as they continued through the slew of policemen and made their way towards the barn. "There's no way of telling who's who."

"Any clues to who the bastard is?"

"None."

"And still nothing about Reid and the box?"

"Nothing."

As they neared the barn, they were hit with a foul smell. Decay. In actuality, the building wasn't a barn, but a horse stable. 'Z' had enclosed each section with wire, creating several large prisons. As Morgan continued through the stable, he saw bloodied blankets, animal troughs filled with rotting food and a skeleton, half-buried by the hay. In one prison, there were rusty chains hanging from the wall, and Morgan imagined Spencer laying cold and scared, restrained by his neck. He physically shook that image out of his head, and set to work, tearing through the hay, desperate to find something they could use to catch the guy.

It was a little while later when Morgan heard Emily scream from the other side of the barn. He instinctively reached for his gun and ran towards her, finding her standing on the edge of one of the wooden gates, and staring down at the hay.

"Stay back!"

Morgan watched the hay fall in on itself, disappearing into a pit at the centre. Despite Emily's protests, he leaned in for a closer look. The cover of the pit had fallen in on itself, and the plastic was bubbling, fizzing, decaying in a vat of liquid, right before his eyes. It took him a moment to realize what it was, and another to understand what 'Z' might have done with it.

"Acid." Morgan said breathlessly.

* * *

At the hospital, JJ sat by herself. With the discovery of the journal, the stables, and then the vat of acid, Garcia was away. JJ couldn't remember what for exactly, it seemed everything she heard turned into "Spencer" when in reached her brain. She was exhausted, and she wanted nothing more than to go home, hug her son and take a hot shower, but she refused to leave. _What if he wakes up for good when I'm gone? He's not going to be alone again._

She had read 'Canterbury Tales' to him six times, today her voice was too dry and voice too hoarse to continue.

She scraped the chair across the floor and leaned over his body, taking his hand.

"Spence, It's JJ." She said. "I'm right here, waiting for you to wake up."

* * *

ooo

* * *

JJ awoke, and immediately looked over to the bed. She froze when she saw nothing but white sheets, a blue duvet and no Spencer. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, and now he was gone. _But gone where? _She scrambled to sit up, blinking her eyes, and she calmed considerably when she realized Spencer was _under_ the blankets, and that his body was moving with obvious signs of life. He had pulled out all the tubes and wires he could get his hands on, and they lay on the floor next to him.

She neared the bed and knelt next to Spencer. He was on his side, and the blankets were pulled up over his face. One withered hand was all that was visible, clinging to the blankets to keep them place.

"Spence?"

JJ gently eased the blanket down a little, and she found him. His eyes were tightly shut, but she could tell he had been crying. His teeth had latched on to his hand, and he was drawing blood. While he was sweating profusely, he was shivering.

"It's JJ, honey." She used the softest voice she had. The one she usually reserved only for her son. "You're in a hospital, you're back home."

Spencer gave a barely audible whimper in response, but JJ didn't hear it. She turned to find a doctor at the door, who promptly moved to guide her out of the way and flip through Spencer's charts.

"Good Afternoon, Dr. Reid." The doctor offered. He was older than the other man, and far softer in appearance. He carefully pulled down the sheets and held Spencer's eyes open, shining a flashlight into them. The first time the nurse had gripped Spencer and shaken him hard, he had frozen up and fallen silent. This time he sobbed and his body jerked around as he tried to get away from the doctor.

"This is a safe place, you'll be getting the best care while you're here."

The doctor tucked Spencer back under the covers, and turned to JJ.

"Now he's awake, he'll need another MRI scan." He explained, "I will be able to tell you more after that, but the fact he is alert and responsive is a very good sign."

"And he's out of his coma?"

The doctor nodded. He instructed JJ to call the nurse if Spencer started seizing, or became very distressed, because apparently there was a high chance of both. Then he was gone, and JJ was left alone with Spencer.

* * *

At the BAU, the rest of the team sat in silence at the Round Table, photographs of the victims sprawled out in front of them.

"Here it is." Rossi said, holding up the thick journal. "June 9th, 2012. Number 114. Acid. Thighs. Eight out of ten."

"So he wasn't using it to dispose of some of the bodies?" Emily asked.

"We don't know, it may have had two purposes." Said Hotch. "This UNSUB doesn't stick to a particular M.O. We have burning, strangulation,exsanguination. But then we have Reid."

"I'm still going with the idea he wants to send a message to the FBI." Morgan pushed.

"Could he have been rejected from the bureau, he might have gone for the same job as Reid did?" Emily tried.

"Dates don't fit." Rossi said. "Reid had been in the BAU for five years before the UNSUB abducted him. Why wait?"

"There could have been a stresser in his life. If he lost his job, or his wife walked out... he starts questioning how much better everything might have been if he had got Reid's job?" Emily pushed.

"There were abductions before and after Reid, why all the rest?"

"Media attention? He'd get that by abducting and FBI agent."

Hotch turned to the speaker-phone.

"Garcia, make a list of males aged 30 to 60 who were rejected from the FBI."

"But, Sir, that list would be -"

"Pay particular attention to those rejected around the same time as Reid joined the bureau, we think it might have been a stresser."

"That makes it so much simpler! P.G. out."

The speaker-phone went dead.

* * *

JJ was telling Spencer all about her son - his godson - when a nurse entered with a trolley full of food. She pulled Spencer's table around, and placed a plate of white glop and a bottle of thinner white glop on it. JJ raised her eyebrow, surely this wasn't enough after being starved! Then she realized that because Spencer had been fed through a tube for the past four years, his stomach wouldn't be ready for normal, adult food.

"Spencer, there's food here for you." She tried, knowing it was futile.

She unscrewed the bottle top and held it to Spencer's lips. For a moment, she thought he might try some, but then his hand went up, knocking the bottle out of JJ's hands and spilling the liquid all over her blouse.

Spencer reacted immediately. She didn't know where his energy had come from, but instantly he was sitting up, slamming his head into the headboard and biting his hand.

JJ went for the call button, and two nurses came to restrain Spencer. He clawed at them, growled and bit one of the lady's hands. He was like an animal caught in a trap, scared, helpless - and in his own mind - faced with imminent death. JJ moved closer to him, hoping a friendly face would ease some of his fears, but in one swift action, he raised his hand and scratched deep into her cheek.

"It's okay!" She called, regardless. "Spence it's -"

"You need to get out!" One of the nurses yelled. "You're agitating him."

Spencer lunged at JJ again, he spit in her direction and kicked his feet.

_You're upset the food's spilt. You're not upset at me, are you?_

His head wound was _bleeding,_ his lips were _bleeding, _his hand was _bleeding_...

JJ ran.

_Spencer turned to drugs when Hankel had him for 48 hours. He couldn't sleep. Fish makes him sick. _

_Spencer was trapped in a box for four years. How many hours in four years? Spencer would know. _

Was it foolish to believe Spencer could come back from this? Yes. He was remarkable, in the sense he was able to remember everything he had ever read, and solve complicated equations before everyone else finished reading them. But he was still a man, and his gigantic brain didn't make him immune to pain. From what she knew, Spencer's genius only made it harder for him to deal with things emotionally. When he can't wrap his head around the things he's feeling, he acts out.

JJ found herself driving without destination. She didn't want to go home and pretend everything was okay when it was all still falling apart. She considered going back to the BAU, but she didn't want to face the team either. She viewed her scratch in her rear-view mirror, it was red and angry, but it wasn't bleeding. She didn't think she had the right to complain, not when she thought off all the blood Spencer was covered in when they found him.

_That box._

She found herself at Spencer's apartment. She let herself in and lay down on his bed. She had lost count of how many times she had buried her face in his pillow and cried for him, how many nights she and Garcia had sat on his sofa and watched Doctor Who or Star Trek just because they were his favourite shows. JJ kicked off her shoes and climbed into Spencer's bed. She had never got in his bed before, even though she had gone through his drawers. The sheets smelled too much like him, and when they had all started to consider the possibility that he was dead, it was too much. Her arm touched something soft, and JJ reached in to recover a stuffed dog. It's head was squished, it's ear had been chewed and it's tail was non-existent. It looked well-loved to say the least, something Spencer had saved from his childhood. Despite her misery, JJ smiled.

When JJ found the strength to leave, she took the dog and a few other bits and pieces from Spencer's room with her.

* * *

When JJ returned to the hospital, Spencer was being wheeled back into his room after his MRI scan. She set her bag down at his door and watched him crawl back under the blankets and block the world out.

"He's doing okay."

JJ turned to find Hotch staring back at her.

"Once the swelling in his brain goes down, the seizure activity should lessen, but there's a possibility he will need to be on medication for the rest of his life."

JJ nodded. She felt awkward. Hotch had come to see Spencer, and found him alone.

"And his mental ability?" JJ didn't exactly know how to word it.

"No lasting damage." Hotch confirmed. "Doctors like to prepare you for the worst case scenario. His emotional wounds will be harder to heal that the physical ones."

There was a bench outside Spencer's room and they sat down, watching him through the door.

"He panicked before." JJ said. "He attacked the nurses, I don't think he knew what was happening. The restrained him and he got scared."

"It could have been a flashback." Hotch said. "When he's able to talk, we'll all be there to help him through it. That's all we can do."

_We owe him that._

* * *

JJ pulled the chair up to Spencer and sat down. She opened her bag and took out a framed picture of Diana Reid, placing it carefully on Spencer's bedside table next to the flowers from Garcia. She unfolded his green comforter and laid it over his body. Lastly, she took out the stuffed dog and lifted the blankets up, putting it against Spencer's chest. He needed to know he was home.

After a moment, she watched his eyes open and find the dog, the photograph and finally her face. She smiled at him, he didn't return it. Instead, he reached up and touched the cut on her face, looking at her nervously.

"It's okay, Spencer." JJ said. "It doesn't hurt at all."

After a moment, he let his arm drop. His fingers inched across the mattress, and he found her outstretched hand.

* * *

_So Spencer's starting to trust JJ. But what happened to him, and what's going on in his head? Find out next chapter!_

_Please review :D_


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi! Here's the next chapter. I'm not too happy with it, but I can't spend any more time agonising over it!_

**Warnings**: Urine.

* * *

For the most part, Spencer's physical injuries were superficial, and he would heal. The doctors tried to talk to him about the surgical options for his missing ear lobe and the gouge in his arm, but Spencer didn't want to listen. He wasn't talking yet, but anyone who frequented his room knew that when he pulled the blankets up to cover his face, he wasn't interested. The swelling in his brain had lessened, but the seizure activity continued. They weren't noticeable, and JJ didn't worry until the doctor let her look at Spencer's charts, full of steep mountains and zig zags where there shouldn't be.

The rest of the team continued to send flowers, and drive to the hospital just to wait outside Spencer's room and peek in through the window. JJ had tried to get Spencer to come out from under the blankets and let the rest of the team see that he was really back with them, and was closer to 'okay' than they might think, but it was useless. Garcia had been to the library and taken out a pile of new books, and all Spencer wanted to do was lay in bed and listen to JJ read them. So she did. One hand balancing the book, and the other gripping his and tracing circles with her thumb.

Then Spencer was moved from ICU to the recovery ward. Learning to trust his friend, and understand that at the very least, he wasn't alone anymore, had been hard enough. In the new ward, he was dealing with an elderly dementia patient who walked up and down the hall all day and stared in through the small window in the door, and less-than-compassionate nurses who had no regard for the low lighting, low voices rule they had established.

On the first night, Spencer didn't sleep. The elderly man continued to pace the halls, and Spencer kept his eyes firmly on the door. JJ knew he was just waiting for this 'Z' to return, terrified he was going to be taken away again.

"You're safe here, Spencer." JJ said. She'd lost count of how many times she had said the same thing, but she just didn't know how else to comfort him.

* * *

By the morning, JJ's had finished Watership Down and had made a good start on The Hobbit. Spencer's eyes were still focused on the door, red and swollen. When the nurse entered, pushing a trolley with a plate of food on it, Spencer jumped. It was the first time he had shown signs of life in hours. JJ watched him stare at the nurse for a few moments, as she set up his bedside table, before realizing who it was and relaxing considerably. He didn't even flinch while the nurse began to unhook his tubes. Usually, he would fight, but this time keeping watch of the door was far too important.

"The male nurse will be in soon to give him a bath." The nurse said. "He's well enough to get out of bed."

She then looked to Spencer and wrinkled her nose.

JJ was tired, stressed and sick to death of the ignorant hospital staff. Despite really wanting to yell and scream at them, she didn't think any good would come of it. She would only upset Spencer, and he was only just beginning to trust her. She just couldn't understand it. Perhaps Spencer was physically better, but he wasn't even able to _speak_. No one seemed to have considered how traumatising being stripped down and touched all over by a stranger might be for him.

"No, I'll do it." JJ offered. _She_ was his friend. _She_ would be gentle.

The nurse didn't protest, merely gesturing to the food.

"He needs to eat this too." She said, before making a quick exit.

JJ looked to Spencer. He wasn't even blinking.

"Spence," She tried. "Can I help you take a bath?"

There was no answer, but JJ had given up expecting one.

* * *

The team went state-wide with there inquiry. Nobody in the neighbourhood knew anything, but _someone _had to. They set up a hotline, which was immediately bombarded with phone calls. The majority were immediately dismissed, but one stuck out. A mechanic, Mr Neil Jackson, said he had hired someone who had only identified himself as 'Z'. They brought him in.

Hotch and Morgan sat across from a very nervous Mr Jackson.

"I paid him under the table." He admitted. "Times are hard."

"Our only concern is finding the man." Hotch said sternly. "Anything you can tell us will help with our investigation. How did you come to know him?"

"Well, he said he was experienced." Neil looked from Hotch to Morgan and leaned forward on the table. "And for the most part he knew what he was doing. But then things started going missing and-"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know... dozens of car batteries, ropes, tools. I had to fire him."

Morgan and Hotch looked at each other. There had to be more to it.

"Mr Jackson," Morgan said, "Did he ever display any unusual behaviour? Did anything seem _off_ to you?"

Mr Jackson nodded immediately.

"Once he asked to borrow a tire pump. I asked him what kind of car he drove. Then he laughed."

Mr Jackson came in very close and looked at Morgan seriously.

"He started talking about stabbing someone in the chest with it, and blowing up their lung. I don't know, it was just creepy."

* * *

With some coaxing, Spencer was able to get out of bed and sit down in his wheelchair. He was incredibly light, and JJ had no trouble pushing him into the adjacent bathroom. She briefly considered calling Morgan or Hotch or even Rossi to help Spencer bathe, but decided against it. With everything going on, she doubted being embarrassed ranked very high for Spencer right now. She turned on the taps.

Spencer was limp in his chair, and stared expressionless at the wall while JJ began to undress him. She undid the hospital gown and guided Spencer's arms out from the sleeves, throwing the garment towards the door and moving to Spencer's socks and underwear. She tried to look away from the letter Z's carved into his chest, the cigarette burns down his sides and the black and yellow bruisings around his groin. She couldn't help but notice that his thighs were deeply scarred by something that had eaten into his flesh. She took his arms, and this time he instinctively stood up. JJ supported him as he scrambled into the bath and sat down on the safety mat, then she watched as he closed his eyes and his face disappeared behind a mass of unkempt hair.

JJ found the washcloth on the side of the basin, and emerged it in the water. Spencer flinched, and he looked at her worriedly.

"It's just water, honey." She said. "After your bath you can try and eat something."

She caught tears as they started the fall down his face in rapid succession, knowing there was no way she could know what was wrong. She began to run the cloth over his face and neck, then started at the caked-on dirt and god-knows what else, stuck to the rest of his body. The nurse hadn't done a great job cleaning him when he was in the bed. They hadn't done a great job looking after him, period. She wanted to take him out of the hospital. But take him where? A psychiatric hospital? Spencer would never forgive her.

JJ began to wash Spencer's hair, being careful to avoid his head wound and keep the bandages dry. She wondered about the other cuts all over his body, and how badly they were hurting.

"Are you in pain?" She asked him. She lifted his hand and held on. "You just squeeze my hand if you are."

Nothing.

"We're almost done he-"

The sound of a cart crashing and someone screaming outside made Spencer begin to slam his head into the side of the wall. Terrified he was going to do some serious damage to himself, JJ wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. He struggled against her and gnashed his teeth, but he was exhausted and JJ was so much stronger.

"It's not for us, Spencer. It's for someone else outside."

As soon as JJ let go Spencer pulled away and then she had to listen to him cry, and watch his bones wriggle under his skin while he shivered.

* * *

Garcia tacked a police sketch on to the board. The man was white, in his forties, well-built and had a very hard face. He didn't have any freckles, scars or distinguishing features, but when Garcia looked into his eyes, she saw pure evil.

Having spent the morning on the phone to the families of the victims, Garcia was in a bad mood. After years, they had hoped that one day, their loved one would reappear. Garcia had to call and tell them they never would. Because there were so many victims, and because Z had such a high probability of killing again, they couldn't afford to be overly sympathetic about it. The families didn't get a home visit, but a mere phone call, and a request to come and collect what was left. Garcia was sorry. She was so, so _sorry_. But after every phone call, when the line went dead and she heard the ominous beeping, she hated herself because she always though the same damn thing.

_Better them than Spencer._

"JJ said Reid's doing better."

Garcia turned to see Emily walking towards her, holding a cellphone.

"That's good, really good." She said smiling. "When do you think we can see him?"

Emily sighed and shook her head. "Soon, Garcia. He just needs some time."

"How much time? We're his family, we can help."

"JJ's with him. That's all wants right now."

* * *

JJ wheeled Spencer back into his room, angled him away from the door so he couldn't stare at it, and pulled up a chair next to him. Her plans to give Spencer a nice relaxing bath in the hopes that he would actually _sleep_ had gone to Hell, but he might be able to eat.

Because Spencer had a serious aversion to tubes around his face, he was being fed by a naso-gastric line that the nurses only inserted during the night. His stomach was so small, and he was so dreadfully undernourished, that he could only take one meal a day anyway. The system had worked, but Spencer hadn't slept in thirty hours, and whether he knew it or not, he was starving.

JJ reached for the tray and gazed at the lumpy mound of mashed potato, the piece of something dressed up as "steak" and the portion of vegetables. It was hardly breakfast food - it was hardly food at all - but it would have to do. The potato looked like the most appealing thing on the plate, so she scooped some up and held it out to him.

Spencer immediately looked away. She watched his eyes dart around the room and his fingernails scratch at the hospital gown he was wearing.

"Spencer..." She called softly. "Spence, look at me."

She watched him wriggle in his seat and twist his head away from her. Then his nails moved to his face which was still healing and covered in scabs.

JJ wondered why he didn't want to eat, and why he was acting in such a manner, but she didn't judge him.

"It's food, honey. Just food."

_No. _

JJ took a bite off the food, and Spencer's eyes grew wide. He watched her with shock, as if any minute she was going to implode.

"Just some potato, that's all."

_Food._

After that, Spencer didn't worry. As JJ spooned the food into his mouth, she wondered why she hadn't tried it before. It was the first thing a parent did for their child...

But Spencer _wasn't_ a child.

She scraped the food from Spencer's lips when he had finished. She didn't think he could take the rest of the meal, but was happy with his progress. Small steps. Small, small steps.

"Do you want to keep read-"

There was a loud and persisting beeping coming from outside. JJ jumped and spun around, but saw nothing. When she looked back, Spencer was on his feet, stumbling towards his bed. Then he fell, his arms failing to catch him, and his face smacked against the tiles. JJ instinctively reached out to him, but he was across the room in a second, cowering in the space between the bed and the side table.

JJ crouched down in front of Spencer and laid a hand on his bony shoulder. His own hands were trying to decide whether to block his ears or his eyes, but ended up repeatedly striking his face.

"Spencer..." She said. "Spencer, remember, it's not for us."

Spencer starting crying. Or rather, he screamed. His hands clawed at his face, desperate to block out the noise and tear away the fear. JJ knew the sounds were the bleeping of machinery and the footsteps of nurses frantically moving around, but Spencer didn't. She had no idea what he thought was going on.

_Please go. Please run. You put me back now. _

"I _promise_ you, you're safe."

JJ could smell urine. After years of working on crime scenes, she knew what fear smelled like. She knew pain and she knew death. She watched the wetness spread over the floor tiles, and hoped Spencer wasn't aware of what was happening. She thought of Georgia. She thought of how terrible Spencer had smelled when he had hobbled over to her, like fish and sweat. How she didn't even care, because at least he was back with them, and he was alive. She remembered hugging him, and she wondered how long it had been since somebody had hugged Spencer, or showed him any kind of affection at all. JJ risked it. She pushed the bedside table away and wrapped her arms around Spencer's shoulders. His bawling only got more intense, but this time he didn't fight.

JJ felt Spencer's hands find her back, and his fingernails scratch at her, and she started to cry too. It was selfish. It was _disgustingly_ selfish to think her pain came anywhere close to his, but she couldn't help it.

"I'm so sorry, Spencer." She told him. _For leaving you. For not looking hard enough for you. For not knowing how to help you_.

The noises stopped, and slowly, Spencer calmed. His body was limp, and he lay against JJ like a giant rag-doll. She doubted he was going to be able to move any time soon, and began to rub warmth into him with her hands.

_Put me back, please. Put me back. I hear him. Put me back now. _

_Amy._

_My box._

"I'm taking you home, honey." JJ whispered. "Don't worry, we'll go home where it's quiet and you can rest."

_Home._

_My box._

_I want to go home._

* * *

___Please leave a review if you're reading, they really make my day and give me the motivation to continue :)_


End file.
